


Memories

by fawatson, greerwatson



Series: ITOWverse:  Autumn Holidays 2010 [1]
Category: RENAULT Mary - Works
Genre: Gen, Halloween, ITOWverse, Metafiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-01
Updated: 2010-11-01
Packaged: 2018-05-27 14:44:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6288658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerwatson/pseuds/greerwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Secretary feels melancholy after the reveal of the Spooky Challenge stories on the <a href="http://maryrenaultfics.livejournal.com">maryrenaultfics</a> LiveJournal community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

There had been some lovely stories, the Secretary mused silently, as she pushed open the French doors and stepped out onto the veranda.  All the characters had been pleased to see the community come alive once more, vibrant with multiple postings.  There was always a good response to the Spooky Challenge; and this year had been no exception.  Of course, as usual, some books had proved a more popular source of inspiration than others; but even those characters from the books not chosen had still shown an interest in what had been posted. 

Most of the characters had returned to their books by midnight.  However, one or two had lingered, discussing some particular story that had taken their fancy; and she had let herself be drawn into the conversation.  In some ways, she admitted (if only to herself) she had used it as a distraction.  Eventually, though, everyone who had decided to stay overnight at the clubhouse had gone up to bed. 

Last year had been no different.  Once, though....

Ah, well.   _Once_.  Things had been so very different _before_ —especially at this time of year.  This was something that she had not anticipated.  It drove home the reluctant truth that, happy though she was in this place, her existence had irrevocably altered.  If nothing else, at one time she too would have written something for the Spooky Challenge—but those days were past.  It was one of those immutable laws of the gods that a shade could not create something new. 

“Why so sad, dear lady?”  The gentle question came from a slight figure seated cross-legged in shadows to one side of the French doors.  She hadn’t noticed him lurking before he spoke.  No ... not lurking.  No one could ever really accuse Kalanos of _lurking_. 

“I’m not sad,” she protested, but the tilt of one eyebrow and gentle smile that curled his lips showed she had not fooled him. 

“Well, not _really_ sad,” she explained.  “It’s just everything here is so different.  Take today, for example.  It was a wonderful party and I had fun reading all the stories.  There really is no reason to complain....” 

“And yet?” Kalanos prompted softly as she faltered. 

“The Spooky Challenge....”  She hesitated.  “It celebrates Halloween.”

“A festival of your people.”  Kalanos fell silent; but his eyes were intent and did not shift.  He waited for her to go on.

Eventually, she admitted, “It’s just _not_ been like a real Halloween.  Too many ... oh, too many differences ... that I notice too much.  Silly things.  There was no pumpkin to carve into a lantern, no candy to make.”  After a brief pause she continued, very softly, “There were no children dressing up and going trick or treating.  That’s what I remember most from my _own_ childhood.  Contriving a wonderful costume, better each year; with the mask, and a bag for the candy, and a box to collect pennies for UNICEF.  And it isn’t just that I miss my childhood,” she added hastily.  “As an adult, I shelled out candy and pennies to the neighbourhood kids, the same way my mother did.”

“I do not know this Halloween of your people,” replied Kalanos, “though it is a religious festival clearly very important in your time to inspire so many offerings from the community.  In particular, I did not realise that the children followed their own ceremonies, separate from the adults.” 

The Secretary shook her head.  “No, not a _religious_ festival.  Well, not _really_ , though I suppose it has its origins centuries ago in—”  She stopped herself from trying to explain any further.  Kalanos was waiting politely; and she knew he would listen intently to all she said and then debate it in his usual philosophical way, first with her, and later with Sokrates and Plato.  But it didn’t _matter_ in the end what he thought, not to her at least. 

Wonderful though all the stories had been, tonight just hadn’t been the Halloween of her childhood—the Halloween of home—and she missed it.

**Author's Note:**

> "Memories" was written to the prompt “lurking” for the 2010 Spooky Challenge on the [maryrenaultfics](http://maryrenaultfics.livejournal.com) LiveJournal community.


End file.
